A Little Less Maple Syrup, A Little More Action
by VampyreChildLynx
Summary: High School AU! PruCan with a little FrUK and Ameripan? on top!  Gilbert Beilschmidt has been coasting through his senior year, awesomely of course, but a make out session with a cute blond at a party turns his life into a big gay soap opera.  Awesome.
1. Prologue 1: Beeil dich, Beilschmidt!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor any of its characters...if I did it would be much more debauchery.

**Warnings are in order!**

First! There is some dirty smutty chapters to come and they involve yaoi and Gilbert...just saying hahaha He is German ;)

Second,It has been a long time since I have written a fic and I have never written a Hetalia fic before and I have been out of high school for 5 years so we'll see how this turns out. The schools and schedule are based on American public school (eww I know). I'm going to try my best to stay in character but if it get a bit too OOC just let me know in a review.

Last, I am practicing my German in this through Gilbo and Luddy so please correct me if you are a native speaker and see a mistake!

NOW! On to the fic!

* * *

**Prologue 1: Beeil dich, Beilschmidt!**

* * *

The waking mind is a wonder. It absorbs all of the pieces, yet doesn't bother to put them together. Such was the dilemma of Gilbert Beilschmidt this Friday morning. He could hear his brother yelling at him but he couldn't put it together with the German expletives he was hearing. He dimly registered Ludwig yelling at someone (probably Lars) to grab his feet.

"_Wach auf, Bruder!_" Ludwig grunted as he and Lars un-awesomely tossed Gilbert out of bed.

Gilbert mumbled something that sounded like "motherfuckers" before sitting up, yawning, and then glaring at his brother and cousin.

Ludwig, as usual, looked sharp in a red button up collar shirt under a black sweater vest. He had on Khaki pants that had most certainly been ironed and a pair of all back sneakers (probably K Swiss like an un-awesome asshole). His blond hair was slicked back and unmoving, blue eyes glaring back.

His brother's perfect appearance effectively made him sick so he turned his glare on his cousin.

Lars looked like he'd already smoked something(despite it was 6:30am) and was snickering at Gilbert. His dirty blond hair was spiked resembling a hedgehog. He was wearing a blue and white muffler around his neck, his usual brown utility jacket, over an orange t-shirt (was that the fucking FIFA jersey, _again?_), pair of faded relaxed fit jeans, and a faded old pair of classic Chuck Taylors.

"I'm up, _Gott_, you didn't have to literally toss me out of bed," he grumbled rifling through his dirty laundry hamper for the least smelly articles of clothing. He picked up a black shirt, sniffed it, and tossed it back on the pile, smelled like pot and sweat. He continued rifling through his hamper.

Ludwig wrinkled his nose. "Don't you have any clean clothes, _Bruder_?" he asked looking around Gilbert's surprisingly orderly if cluttered room.

Gilbert didn't waver his search, merely, tossed an "I smell awesome no matter what" over his shoulder. Ludwig's frustration hit a new high and he finally stalked out of the room barking and angry, "_Beeil dich_!" over his shoulder.

Gilbert smirked as he finally settled on an outfit and Lars snickered behind him. "You'd think he would go ahead and get his license so he can stop having to rely on you," the Dutch boy said in his foreign sounding German.

Gilbert chuckled as he got dressed. "Why, wouldn't he want to rely on the awesome me? But, anyway, then he would have to come to terms with the fact that he is a German who is afraid of driving."

It had always amused Gilbert that his brother had so much German pride despite them no longer living in Germany. Most Germans were wary to express their love of their country, but not Ludwig. Ludwig would chastise him for his lack of outward German pride, his slangy German speech, and his overall lack of German-ness. But when the time had come for Ludwig to get his license he had effectively clammed up and failed the first test of his life. Gilbert knew he was awesome, since he had gotten his license on the first try, but it made him feel even better that he knew his perfect brother couldn't do it.

After throwing on his pinstripe vest over his white graphic tee and a pair of fitted dark denim jeans he started to lace up his combat boots.

"Lars why the hell are you here anyway?" Gilbert finally got around to asking as he finished tying his boot and grabbed his olive green messenger bag. Lars grabbed his own tattered tan backpack and followed Gilbert out of his room.

"You expected me to smoke with you and then go home last night?" he asked incredulously. Gilbert rolled his eyes and looked at his cousin.

"You live next door!" he yelled.

"My stupid sister..." he grumbled the rest unintelligibly as they headed out to the car where Ludwig was already sitting in the passenger seat. "_Beeilen euch_!" came the harsh German bark.

* * *

Gilbert and Ludwig argued all the way to school with the continued snickering of Lars in the back seat. They arrived at school with 7 min to spare as Gilbert had assured (or rather yelled...awesomely of course). Ludwig bolted from the car as soon as the car was safely parked. Gilbert slammed the door to his shitty 1990 Silver Audi Coupe Quattro in frustration...and to make sure the door stayed closed. There was nothing awesome about having your car stolen from a high school parking lot

As he headed toward the school, he smelled the scent of roses. "_Gilbert, mon ami! Comment __ça va__?_" came the lilting voice of his long time French friend.

"I thought I smelled something gay," Gilbert mumbled. Ignoring his insult effortlessly, Francis swung an arm around Gilbert's shoulder.

"You seem pissed, _mon ami_," Francis said as he guided Gilbert into the school at the sound of the first bell and toward their first class, English.

"Fighting with West, again this morning," he mumbled still frustrated.

Since they were young their grandfather had referred to them as east and west because of how different they were. Gilbert had started to call his brother West from a young age, but the younger Beilschmidt had stuck to an affectionate "_Bruder_".

Francis tsked in a show of sympathy. "Well, _mon ami_, I'm hosting a fabulous party tonight. That should cheer you up!" Francis cooed encouragingly. He knew he would be required to sneak some beer from his grandfather's stash to gain entry to the party. That's always what Francis required. _Französisches Arschloch._

Francis' parents had recently decided to move back to France, since Francis was 18 and old enough to take care of himself (LOL). Due to the fact that Francis came from money (old money at that), he'd been left a fully paid for 4 bedroom home. His parents had officially shipped off yesterday.

The thought of Francis getting his own place pissed Gilbert off. He shrugged the Frenchman's arm off his shoulder.

As he walked ahead toward the classroom he heard Francis call "And there will be alcohol" just before the bell rang.

Gilbert hurried to his seat and whipped out his Blackberry under his desk. Lightening quick fingers opened MSN chat and sent a message to the French bastard.

**Gilbo Baggins**: I'll b there! ^O^

**Francy Pants**: I knew you would!

**Francy Pants:** Bring some beer! ;)

**Gilbo Baggins**: ... -.-

* * *

**Note: Just wanted to point out that Lars (Netherlands) and his sister(Belgium) do speak German, accented, but they speak it. I found that Dutch people tend to be adept at learning languages and I already knew that Dutch and German have 70% of the same vocabulary just spelled differently or slightly different pronunciation. So in my story they speak it. No Dutch oven jokes for Gilbert lol...at least not without Lars knowing lol.**

**Translations:**

**German:**

**Wach auf, Bruder!**-Wake Up, Brother!

**Gott**-God

**Bruder**-Brother

**Beeil dich!/Beeilen Euch!**-Hurry Up! (The first one is when you are saying it to one person. The second is when you are saying it to more than one person.)

**Französisches Arschloch**-French Asshole_  
_

**French:**

**Mon ami**-my friend

**Comment ça va?**-How are you?

* * *

**A/N:**

**Lynx:** So how is it? Is it awesome?

**Gilbo Baggins:** Of course it is! I'm in it!

_Gilbo Baggins has been booted from the room._

**Lynx:** Anyway! Please leave a review! This and the next chapter are to try to get a feel for my audience so they are kind of short.


	2. Prologue 2: Maple Syrup and Maplecakes?

A/N: Hallo again! Here is the second part of the prologue. Mattie! :D Enjoy

Disclaimer: Still don't own Axis Powers Hetalia nor its character...should I ever acquire ownership, I'll be sure to tell EVERYBODY!

* * *

**Prologue 2: Would you like Maple Syrup with your Maplecakes?**

* * *

Matthew looked across the kitchen to make sure his brother hadn't eaten the table along with the pancakes. Alfred was stuffing the pancakes in his mouth like he was about to hibernate for the winter.

As usual it had taken Matthew upwards of an hour to get himself and Alfred awake and dressed, and to make breakfast for them both. Their mother wasn't around much, and she worked a lot.

"Al slow down! If you choke I'm not helping you!" Matthew huffed. He was really going to have to figure out a way to put Alfred on a diet. He was down right expensive to feed.

"I have to get bigger so I can make first string in football for my senior year!" Alfred whined around a mouth full of pancakes.

Matthew rolled his eyes. His brother had around 6 months to improve his body for the next American football season. He was pretty sure stuffing his face with pancakes wasn't going to help him for either football, baseball, or soccer practices.

Sometimes he couldn't believe he was the younger sibling. Though only by 12 months, he still acted years older than Alfred. It was because of Alfred's immature behavior that he had been forced to repeat the 9th grade putting he and Matthew in the same grade now. Matthew only felt 17 when he was at school.

"Al seriously, we need to get to school," Matthew said shaking his head. "Where is mom?" Matthew asked as he put on his worn red and white checkered Vans.

"Passed out in her room. Remember she hit the casino last night, she probably just got in a few hours ago." he answered before taking his last bite of pancakes.

Norma Merica, had not had an easy life. She'd had Alfred and then Matthew within 12 months of each other and both of their respective fathers were dead. She'd received nothing but disdain from both families and ended up raising her sons alone. It wasn't until recently that they'd each met family from their respective father's sides.

Matthew opened the door to his mother's room to check on her. She'd not even bothered to remove her shoes. He tiptoed in and took off her shoes before draping a blanket over her. He then tiptoed back out sighing heavily as the door shut behind him.

He checked Kumajiro's food bowl as he made his way back to the kitchen. That damn white fluff ball of dog always looked at him as if he didn't know who he was. _Was he really so hard to remember?_

"Lets go, Al, we gotta get to school," he said a somber tone to his voice.

He eyed his brother's attire while he grabbed his bag and put on his jacket, mentally comparing it to his own. Alfred was dressed in a vintage Indian Jones Tee under his Letterman Jacket and slightly baggy black jeans and perfectly white Nikes on his feet. Matt took a quick inventory of his own attire. Red Canada hoodie that he'd gotten during a trip to Toronto, faded old jeans, and worn red and white checkered Vans. _How the hell were they related?_

The brothers hopped into Al's 1999 Red Ford Taurus and headed in the direction of Arthur's house. Arthur was Alfred's cousin from his father's side. Strangely though Matthew felt closer to Arthur than Alfred despite them having no blood relation. Matthew's cousin, Francis was a lot more charismatic like Alfred, however they had no blood relation to each other. _Funny how that works out_ Matthew thought.

As they pulled in front of the old split level house they saw Arthur stomping out of the house his usual sour scowl on his face.

They heard muffled male yelling from the door. Arthur stopped turned around and yelled "Sod off, Jamie!" then promptly continued stomping to the car.

Once in the car he let out a frustrated sigh.

"Morning, Iggs!" Alfred chirped cheerily.

Arthur glared at him from the back seat. "It's Arthur or Iggy, you bloody Yank! And Good Morning to you, both. Hopefully better than my morning so far." he nearly growled.

Matthew turned around in his seat as Alfred started driving toward the school. "What's wrong this morning, Arthur?" he asked.

Arthur let out yet another exasperated sigh. "Just my bloody brothers. Jamie is yelling at me about random stuff again. Colin has been whining all morning about me to him. And Peter...well Peter was being Peter." he finished the scowl never leaving his face.

Arthur lived with his 3 brothers and had been pretty much raised by his older brother Jamie. While the two youngest brothers Colin and Peter were annoying, Jamie and Arthur did battle every morning.

"Well you are still my favorite cousin!" Alfred threw in trying to lighten the mood. Arthur grunted at the comment with no particular emotion.

"Did you get another piercing, Arthur?" Matthew asked staring tentatively at Arthur's ears.

A slight blush crept over Arthur's face. "A few," Arthur replied.

Like cutters who would cut themselves when they were frustrated with a situation they couldn't control, Arthur would pierce himself. And get small tattoos in random places. And participate in violent mosh pits. A true punk to the core, and brimming with anguish to boot.

It amazed Matthew how Arthur could be such a stereotypical punk in his attitude, but he dressed fairly normal. In school at least. Even now Arthur was wearing a faded Sex Pistols tee, faded jeans and a simple pair of black skull Vans, his look accentuated by his piercings. However when he went to parties he was full punk.

They pulled up to the school and Alfred parked the car. The other two got out and headed toward the school. They'd gotten there with 10 min to spare. Matthew instantly felt insignificant again. High School was so big and he felt so small. It seemed like no one noticed him, not even his teachers sometimes. There had been times that he had to speak up after class because he'd been marked absent.

He hated that even though his brother and Arthur and even his cousin, Francis, were all really popular he never seemed to be able to reach any of their levels. _Am I just boring? I mean I get mistaken for Al all the time, but geez._

It wasn't that he was over much a prude or anything. He illegally drank with the rest of his peers, smoked a little pot (ok, quite a bit of pot), and had even done shrooms one time. He had a fake ID and on numerous occasions had gotten into clubs underage. He'd even had sex a time or two with girls and guys. No his problem lay in that he was quiet and polite and everybody knows "Nice Guys finish last". So often because he didn't talk about it, people assumed he didn't and wouldn't do it.

_Forget it. It's not worth dwelling on. _He thought and shook his head to alleviate the thoughts._  
_

He got to his classroom 5 min early and patiently (and dorkily) waited for class to begin. He was startled by the sudden vibration of his phone in his pocket. When he fished the phone out he realized it had automatically signed on to MSN chat when he had used the internet on his phone to check his Facebook in the car.

**Francy Pants**: Mathieu! ^O^

**Maplecakes**: Francis! ^.^

**Francy Pants**: U cummin to my party?

**Maplecakes**: I dunno...

**Francy Pants**: YOU HAVE TO, MATHIEU!

**Francy Pants**: or I will b sad! D:

**Maplecakes**: LOL! Ok I'll come for a bit...

**Francy Pants**: I bet you will ;D

**Maplecakes**: D: FRANCIS!

**Francy Pants**: C U Tonite, Cousin! ;)

Oh Boy.

This was not going to be his typical Friday night in.

* * *

**A/N:**

**I love Francis in chat hahaha He is so fun to write!**

**Arthur's accent is harder to write than the German and the French! WHY IS THAT? By the way anyone have any guesses as to the identities of Arthur's brothers? ;)**

**LOL! Making the MSN screen names is so much fun hahaha Gilbert's is still my favorite cause I'm a nerd!**

**How am I doing so far? Please Review and I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	3. Love,Passion, or A Good Hard Fuck

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or it's characters...but I wish I did.

A/N: Sorry if I'm bad at writing high school scenes...I haven't been in high school in 5 years and it amuses me so much more now than it did then. LOL. By the way JayShock guess right about Iggy's family. Jamie is Scotland and Colin is North Ireland...I think we all know who Peter is...LOL

* * *

Matthew left the lunch line with his hypertension fries and slice of pure-grease-excuse for pizza. _How does this stuff make it past the powers that be and on to our adolescent plates?_ He thought as he set his plate down at the table with his brother.

Alfred seemed not to notice the health risks of his lunch. He had added a suspiciously greasy burger on top of the greasy pizza and fries and two kinds of soda. God forbid he pick either Coke OR Pepsi.

He wrinkled his nose at Alfred's table manners...or lack thereof. "Al, you trying to get fat, eh?" he said unsuccessfully attempting to mask most of his disgust.

Alfred stopped eating for a moment and looked..._indignant?_ Then a little smirk crossed his face and he ate another french fry, more tamely, before saying "I'm not the one who likes _poutine_."

Matthew felt a blush cross his face. "Oh shut up! Let it go! It's the only time I would eat something that you wouldn't and it was nice not having the food vacuumed off my plate before I could enjoy it," he huffed out a little embarrassed.

As he was about to launch into justifications for the sinful Canadian dish, a cute little Asian boy plopped down in the seat next to Alfred. He turned his attention to the new face before realizing it was the current favorite for senior valedictorian.

"Hiya Kiku!" Alfred practically yelled causing a few to turn their heads. The poor little Japanese boy looked extremely uncomfortable from the physical contact, but another emotion was on that red face Matthew couldn't identify. _Embarrassment? Well duh, but that wasn't it._

Alfred had effectively begun to ignore Matthew, as everyone did, turning his whole attention to the Kiku. Matthew busied himself with eating his lunch (or at least the fries) for a bit.

"_Arufured!_" the boy whined, that unidentified emotion still on his face. _Was it disgust? No he wasn't resisting that much._

"I love how you say my name," he heard his brother growl as it hit him. What he was detecting on Kiku's face was embarrassment, but not the loathsome kind, more like the lustful kind.

As he stared at them with this new revelation in mind, he noticed that Alfred had a hand on the boy's hip and the poor thing looked like he was going to explode if he got any redder.

_How the hell had Alfred managed to seduce the smartest and, before today, most distant kid in school? And a senior no less. Granted, he and Kiku would be in the same grade if Alfred hadn't had to repeat the 9th grade but he was still technically a junior...seducing a senior...Wow!  
_

Shaking his head he rose to leave the lunch room, first lunch period had only about 10 min left anyway.

Kiku looked mortified. "You don't have to go!" he half yelled in an uncharacteristic, for him, way. Matthew rubbed the back of his neck as he thought of an exit line.

"I, um, have to go to the bathroom. I'll see you later, eh?" he said guiltily. He really did feel bad for leaving like that but he could feel something like jealousy and discomfort in his belly.

His jealousy wasn't of Alfred having Kiku, no. He was jealous of his brother always having the presence and the ability to ensnare even the coldest of people, while he seemed to just disappear. He was even jealous of Kiku for being so damn cute as to ensnare his brother.

_When am I gonna have someone be like that to me? Or get all messed up over me?_

"Have a nice pee," came the muffled voice of his brother from Kiku's neck. _Asshole._

Matthew dumped his trash and headed for the double doors that lead to the school hall way. Just as he was about to reach for the door, it swung open, hitting him and causing him, and his books, to go sprawling on the floor.

_Gah! So Embarrassing! I really really, hope no one noticed this epic fail._ He thought.

As he scrambled to pick up his stuff, he glanced grumpily at the person who had knocked him over and was _not _helping him pick up his stuff. He glanced up into red eyes and was startled so badly he dropped his stuff again, though this time in a neat little pile.

"Excuse me," Matthew instinctively said even though it wasn't his fault. He needed to learn to be rude...maybe Alfred could teach him.

"_Tut mir_- I mean look out! Awesome coming through!" he yelled then _stepped over _Matthew's pile of school supplies.

Matthew went red with anger and looked at the retreating form of the asshole, who had effectively just embarrassed him twice.

Damn he was hot! And he had an accent of some sort. And he was walking towards that really scary German kid in his class and effectively getting yelled at by that kid.

Matthew shrugged. Serves the bastard right, he thought as he hoisted his stuff up and headed out of the lunch room.

_

* * *

Violet was an awesome eye color_, Gilbert thought as he stepped over the loser who he'd just bumped. When he'd first reached the door of the cafeteria he had busted in like he fucking owned the place. And why shouldn't he? He was awesome enough to own this dump if he wanted to...which he didn't.

When he stepped in and saw the mess of the boy and his books, he'd actually felt remorse. He'd even instinctively begun to apologize, in German no less. But, he was fucking Gilbert Beilschmidt! He didn't make mistakes and thus he never apologized. That kid learned a valuable lesson, awesome is awesome and _never_ apologizes for itself.

Just as he was patting himself on the back from resisting the urge to apologize to _Hr. Schöne Augen_ back there, he ran into his fucking brother. _Goddamn awesome police was fucking here to stop him. _

"_Bruder"_ his brother said in a miffed tone.

"What do you want, West," he said rolling his eyes.

"That was really rude! You should apologize," the blond said nodding towards the door.

"I couldn't possibly see him through the door, he needs to look where I'm going," he said irrationally before turning to see if the boy was still there. He wasn't.

Gilbert pushed past his brother, at the moment the bell to end first lunch was ringing. He'd skipped his homeroom class and gone home to feed his bird.

He had been rushing so much that morning that he had forgotten to feed him! He'd realized it right before homeroom, and skipped it to go home and feel Gilbird (Kesesese awesome name, ja?).

Luckily his grandfather, who was a stick in the un-awesome mud like his brother, hadn't been home when he was skipping. He'd flirted with the idea of bringing Gilbird to school when he went back, but decided against it. He wouldn't want someone snatching his awesome little friend. Not that Gilbird wouldn't do some birdie-jitsu and escape, he just didn't even want him to have to.

He'd only come back to school because he had told Francis he would eat with him and Antonio to discuss the party tonight.

He'd just gotten a plate full of fries, foregoing the grease pizza, hamburger, and the schools lame excuse for hot dogs, and sat at their usual place in the back corner of the cafeteria when he saw Francis and Antonio headed toward him.

Antonio looked content with his plate full of fries, obviously nobody wanted the meat bad enough to eat the grease, and Francis had brought his lunch as usual.

"Gilbert, _mon ami_! Are you feeling better now?" Francis asked taking out his Tupperware of lunch. "Mhmm," Gilbert grunted. "Went home and fed my bird during home room," he said continuing to eat.

Antonio snickered and Francis got a mischievous look on his face. "I thought you were suppose to _choke_ the bird, Gilbert, not feed it," Francis said glibly.

Gilbert glared at him across the table. "I'm going to leave the bird alone and choke you in a minute, Francis," he said picking up another fry. "And that joke only works if you say chicken, idiot, not bird," Gilbert added as an afterthought.

Antonio chuckled again. "_Amigos!_ We have a party to put on tonight!" he said cheerfully.

Francis eyed him for a moment, "Toni are you trying to lay some Italian pipes tonight?" he asked laughing when Antonio blushed.

"Only if you are planning to lay some British ones,"Antonio retorted much to Gilbert's delight.

"Would he even come to your party, Francis? I mean he hates you," Antonio asked innocently.

Francis sighed, a small smile on his face. " He doesn't hate me. It's a game we play, and it keeps him interested. He just doesn't like dealing with his emotions. _Mon Anglais_, merely, likes to play hard to get," he said a sad smile on his face.

"What about you Gilbert, have you a conquest tonight?" Francis asked visibly wanting to change the subject.

"Hmmm," Gilbert grunted finishing off his fries. "Well I think of it this way. Toni is looking for passion with Lovino, and you," he said a disgusted look on his face "are obviously looking for love from that British bastard, Iggy. I just want a good hard fuck, cause I'm awesome and emotional connections are not!" he declared a smirk on his face.

Francis laughed loudly ignoring the insult Gilbert had tossed at him. "We will see about that, _mon copain_! There are going to be a lot of girls to pick from..._et les mecs sexy aussi_." he said smiling.

Gilbert didn't understand what the last part of Francis' sentence was but he could tell he didn't like it.

* * *

The three finished lunch, picking on each other. Finally Francis and Gilbert had stopped bickering about the kind of alcohol they were going to have available at the party. The French bastard of course had wine for years and was arranging for some whiskey, for his _Anglais_, Gilbert was bringing pilfered Beer and Schnapps courtesy of his grandfather's stash. And Antonio was going to get together with his cousin from Mexico to arrange that there be a nice amount of tequila. When the first bell rang they dumped their trash and headed to class.

On the way out Francis spotted his "_Anglais_" and detoured towards him. He'd just gotten up from a table with an Asian kid with a long pony tail, and Gilbert's pothead cousin.

"_Salut, mon ange..._" Francis said into the British boy's ear emphasizing the last word by exhaling a little air in his ear. As he did so he slipped his hand into the back pocket of the Brits jeans.

Arthur jumped, letting out a less than manly squeal, and elbowed him instinctively. He turned and glared at the smiling French bastard. "Bloody hell! Get the hell away from me you fucking frog!" Arthur yelled his nose inches from Francis'.

"Ho! Talk dirty to me, _mon ange_! Are you coming to _ma petite__ fête ce soir_?" he asked placing a hand on the Brits hip.

"Sod off, you French wank-stain..." Arthur said enunciating each word. Francis chuckled.

"Ok, _mon ange_, then I won't have to save you any alcohol. _Je m'en fous. Salut_!" Francis said walking away and trying to hide the smirk on his face.

Twenty minutes later his phone vibrated and he pulled up MSN messenger, knowing who it was, with a grin.

**IggyFrogSlayer: **...Fuck you, Frog!

**Francy Pants: **Later, _mon amour_...C U Tonite. ;)

He was about to close his phone when he remember that he'd invited Matthew and didn't want him looking the way he usually looked at this party. Matthew was so attractive, yet never seemed to put in the effort. That's what incredibly sexy French cousins were for.

He quickly sent a message to his cousin telling him the wrong time on purpose so he and his brother would show up an hour earlier than everyone else. He was making sure his cousin got noticed tonight.

**

* * *

**Poutine**-its a junk food kind of dish that originated in Quebec and now is eaten all over Canada (they even sell it in McDonalds up there). The dish consists of french fries, fresh cheese curds, and beef gravy (those are the basic ingredients but there are many variations) served in a bowl usually. _Definitely an acquired taste in my opinion. _

**Translations:**

**Spanish:**

**Amigos**-Friends (obvious but meh)

**German:**

**Hr. Schöne Augen**-Mr. Pretty Eyes

**French:**

**Mon Anglais**- lit. My English (specifically a male British person)

**Mon Copain**- Male Friend/Pal (french slang)

**...et les mecs sexy aussi!**-...and some sexy guys, too!

**Salut! Mon Ange...**- Hello! My angel...

_**...ma petite fête ce soir?**__-..._my little party tonight?

**Je m'en fous. Salut!**-I don't care. Bye!

**Mon Amour**- my love

* * *

**A/N**

**Seriously I'm going to have to make a FrUK spin-off of this...I had way too much fun writing those two lol I tried to use some colloquial French words but I haven't even though of French in like 6 years so if it's wrong please correct me so I can correct it in the story! :D  
**

**Next chapter is going to be the party and you know what that means...drunk Gilbert...drunk and possibly high Matthew...FrUK yeah! Reviews make pants come down!**


	4. Sehr Québécois

Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia...

Long chapter is long! 8)

This chapter is dedicated to Canada, not the Hetalia character though he's great too, but that awesome country that is right above mine. Canadians are awesome they can party hard like us Americans, but manage to still be the coolest chillest people, unlike us Americans! I tried to put into Matt's sense of partying the true Canadian sense (which is to keep it fun!) . If you've never been to Canada, GO! It's a great country! Shout outs to my friends in Mississauga,ON and Montreal,QC.

Anyway on with the fic!

* * *

Matthew and Alfred arrived at Francis' huge house around 7:00pm. "Uh...there are no cars out here, but ours...and it's awful quiet," Alfred said warily. "Are you sure he said come at 7?" he asked an equally perplexed Matthew.

"I showed you the text, Alfred. He said be here at 7pm," Matthew said a little testily.

He hadn't really intended to come to Francis' party, but his ever politeness ensured that he would at least make an appearance. Now standing outside of the quiet and seemingly party-less house he was loosing patience.

"Al, his car is right there, so we know he's home. Let's just ask him what's up," Matthew said ringing the doorbell.

He could tell Alfred was getting antsy. He loved to party and do stupid boisterous shit that often ended the party for everyone. Alfred was also antsy because he had somehow convinced his new boyfriend, Kiku, to come to the party in an hour and he needed there to be a party.

Francis opened the door a wide grin on his face. "Just in time, Cousin!Alfred!" he said nodding to each.

"What are you talking about Francis, I don't see anybody here. What the hell kind of party is this?" Alfred asked as they followed Francis to his room.

Francis escorted them into his huge bedroom where there were assorted articles of clothing spread on the bed. He looked at Matthew thoughtfully. "Mathieu, I'm dressing you tonight," he said bluntly.

Matthew blinked a second. _Wait, what? What the hell was wrong with his clothes?_ Alfred was laughing so hard and holding his sides. "He called us here early so that you could get a makeover," Alfred choked out between laughs.

When Alfred finally caught his breath and wiped a tear from his eyes he looked at Matthew, who did not look amused. "Aw, come on Mattie, he's got a point you could use some tips...or a new wardrobe" Alfred said.

Even Alfred had put in some effort to his appearance. He was wearing a red white and blue plaid shirt under his bomber jacket and more fitted jeans than usual, with a pair of brown boots. His hair had been combed back resembling that scary German kid in his class.

"Mathieu, you are always sad that you do not receive attention, but your appearance leaves much to be desired. You have the God given beauty that our family has given us, and tonight you will use it," Francis said winking at him and sifting through the clothes on the bed.

Matthew wanted to scream and slap his snotty cousin and brother. _They're right though, you're not going to get noticed in a Canada hoodie, old baggie jeans, and faded and worn Vans,_ his inner self chided. He sighed. "Francis I can't dress like you. I could never pull off the things you wear and besides you are a bit bigger than me," he said refusing to look at his cousin.

"Ah Mathieu, that is why you will wear my things from when I was closer to your size," Francis said. He tossed a very small pair of black shiny jeans at Matthew.

After 45 min of Alfred laughing at everything he tried on and Francis flitting around like a mother-fucking-hen over little details they got Matthew dressed in something fashionable and fairly comfortable. He didn't hate it.

He was wearing a tightly fitted dark blue three quarter sleeves shirt with a big silver fleur-de-lis on it, loose fitting black sleeveless vest, a pair of tight shiny black skinny jeans, and a pair of Rick Owens white and black trainer boots. His medium length hair was restrained by a small zig-zag headband that at first he'd protested was too girly, but really was comfortable.

Francis sighed contentedly. "Well you're no Parisian, but you are certainly very _Québécois._" he said approvingly. "And you look wonderful in those jeans. Better than I ever did in them...and that is a hell of a compliment." he said eying Matthews lower body. "Maybe I should take up hockey..."he mumbled before digging through his closet for his own clothes of the evening.

* * *

Gilbert could see no reason not to wear what he'd worn to school. He looked awesome no matter what but this happened to be one of his favorite outfits.

He knew the pinstripe vest and the graphic t-shirt with the Prussian eagle on it, which everyone mistook for the German eagle (Kesesese), with his fitted dark denim jeans, made him look stylish and mischievous.

The combat boots were just to tip a hat to his epic bad-assery.

As soon as he'd gotten home, he'd set to the task of pilfering the alcohol he would need for the party. He'd even gotten Lars to help him get some of the beer,or rather he had awesomely threatened to not give him a ride if he didn't help.

They were going to have to be content with Warsteiner and Bitburger, because he was not risking taking anything of better quality than that. He'd also managed to get a hold of a bottle of peach schnapps, a bottle of peppermint schnapps, and the one he was most proud of was the bottle of Goldschlagger cinnamon schnapps.

Now, at 8:00pm, he finished loading the alcohol in the car and just needed to make sure he looked good. He was getting laid tonight, he'd already made up his mind. He was gonna find some cute girl who spoke bad English, fuck the shit out of her, then pass out somewhere drunk and happy.

He was adjusting the cross necklace around his neck and putting in his cartilage rings when he heard the familiar, "_Bruder_" coming from his doorway.

He rolled his eyes and fixed his brother with a look of annoyance. However that look melted when he saw the uncertain look on his brother's face. "What do you want, West?" he sighed turning his attention back to his cartilage rings.

Ludwig crossed the room and plopped a 6 pack of high quality Oktoberfest Spaten Beer on his dresser. "I-I need a ride to Francis Bonnefoy's party tonight," he said refusing to meet his brother's gaze in the mirror.

Well he hadn't been expecting that. Though in retrospect he should have expected it. His brother was hopelessly in love with a high-functioning retard...I mean Italian named Feliciano. Feliciano and his asshole twin brother Lovino were sure to be at the party, in fact Antonio had pretty much told him as much. Though his brother swore, albeit falsely, even on his beloved Germany, he and Feliciano were just friends.

He eyed his brother in the mirror. Ludwig wasn't playing around. He was dressed in a fitted black t-shirt, a pair of fitted black leather pants, and his own pair of combat boots. Further complemented by a tilted black Fedora he'd gotten from his "friend" Feliciano, and a pair of shades. The REAL Terminator. _The hell! He looks almost as good as me! _Gilbert thought.

Gilbert chuckled and sealed his earring on. "_Aber was denn_, West! Let's party,_ Bruder_!" Gilbert exclaimed grabbing the case of Spaten, his own dark grey Fedora that matched his pinstripe vest and shades, and headed out to his car with his brother, grabbing Lars on the way out.

* * *

Gilbert, Ludwig, and Lars arrived at the party at 8:45pm. By this point people were drinking and on their way to a good buzz. They were greeted by the Euro-beat music coming from the speakers when they came in toting more alcohol, which effectively made them party heroes.

Gilbert and his brother immediately set down the alcohol and opened a couple beers to begin their night.

"_Prost!_" Gilbert said cheerfully clinking his beer bottle with his brothers. Seeing Ludwig breaking the rules and drinking underage already made this party worth coming to, though he knew his brother would rationalize it by saying he was of legal age in Germany.

As he was about to tease Ludwig about his numerous rule breaking actions tonight, the little Italian of his brothers affections sidled past him. Ludwig's face turned a hilarious shade of red as the little Italian brushed him unconsciously.

"Vee! Doitsu! You came," he said smiling brightly. _Where the hell had he come up with that nickname? _Gilbert thought, but merely laughed at how uncomfortable his brother was.

And why shouldn't he be? Gilbert knew what kind of porn his brother was into and the stuff he liked would defile the little Italian six ways from Sunday, and again on Monday.

"Feliciano, where is Antonio?" Gilbert asked finishing his first beer and pulling another.

"Vee! With my brother! In the other room, but I wouldn't bother them, brother is being nice to him," he said smiling. "Ve~e! I love when they get along!" he said smiling and turning to Ludwig.

_Cock block time!_ Gilbert thought opening his second beer and heading out of the kitchen.

* * *

"You better not tell anyone about this!" Lovino said to Antonio. He was currently perched in the Spanish boy's lap and straddling his hips. "Especially not that pervert Francis, or that potato bastard Gilbert," he said sternly. Antonio was barely registering that Lovino had been talking. _My Lovi is in my lap! I might actually get to lay some Italian pipes...or at least touch one._

"Your perverted face is making me sick," Lovino said just before he sealed the distance between them with a kiss. Antonio pulled back a little, "Then why are you kissing me, Lovi" he breathed against the others lips.

"Because I can't see your perverted face, when we kiss," he said before kissing him again. This kiss lasted a little longer and at the move of Antonio's tongue in his mouth, Lovino let out a little moan.

"Is that the sound of Italian pipes being passionately laid," came the deep German accented voice of mischief incarnate.

Lovino jumped off of Antonio's lap and looked to where Gilbert was leaning against the door jamb and drinking his beer.

"Gilbert, you potato bastard, I'm gonna fucking-" Lovino started his hands balling into tight fists at his sides. Antonio stood and put his hand on Lovino's shoulder. "No need Lovi," he said with a smile as bright as the sun.

"I'll do it myself," he said sharply the warm smile melting into the cold and very pissed off smirk that often graces the face of a man who has suffered from a long case of blue balls and gets to kill something.

* * *

Lars went looking for a place to smoke his first blunt, of the evening anyway.

The Dutch boy found himself on the back porch and had just lit the "little stick of awesome", as Gilbert called them, that he'd rolled earlier. He toked at the heavenly herb and his gaze wandered over the back porch. It was at this moment that he noticed the violet eyed blond boy who was watching him.

He jumped a little startled to realize he wasn't alone out back. The boy just watched him as he took another hit on the blunt. "You, uh, want something," he asked eying the boy warily.

He'd been trying to avoid sharing and would have smoked at home, but Gilbert had asked him to help sneak beer or he would have no ride. Seeing as his license was still suspended for a DUI, he needed that ride. Now here he was caught between his blunt and this pair of violet eyes.

The violet eyes scanned, and lingered, over the blunt. "Can I get a hit?" Violet eyes asked. Lars let out an exasperated sigh and passed the blunt to the violet eyed mooch. The boy took a sexy long little toke of the pot slowly letting the smoke escape from his mouth. _Ok so maybe it was worth sharing to see that._

Then he fished in the pocket of his tight and shiny pants and fished out some money handing it to Lars. "Will you share the rest with me?" he asked sweetly. The buzz hadn't quite reached his eyes yet, but this kid was looking for good times.

Lars eyed the money, then took it. He hadn't expected to be paid, maybe he could smoke with this guy again. _ He sure is polite._ Lars thought as he passed the blunt again.

Pretty eyes took another hit and then drank out of a glass full of red liquid. _Where the hell did he get a drink?_ Lars thought. He usually didn't drink and smoke at the same time, it had bad effects in the morning, but this little guy was hardcore.

* * *

Matthew felt amazing.

He was high as a kite and working on a beautiful buzz.

Earlier, he'd been fighting the urge to just walk home about 30 min into the party. He didn't know a lot of these people and they definitely didn't know him. He'd finally decided to just get sloshed and call it a night.

Grabbing a glass he'd poured himself some of Francis' wine and headed out to the back porch for a little peace. He'd heard rather than seen the spiky haired guy come outside. The guy seemed engrossed in his own world as he'd fished out a pre-rolled blunt, lit up and took a long covetous hit.

_This dude has pot! My night just got better! _Matthew thought.

Everybody thought he was a goody-two-shoes and that he couldn't party, but he loved to party. Generally though he preferred pot to alcohol, pot mellowed him out, alcohol dissolved his inhibitions, he'd decided tonight he'd go with both.

Originally the guy had seemed loath to share his pot, but Matthew had offered him some cash and the guy seemed both surprised and appreciative. He might be indulging his naughty side but he was always polite.

As he took what looked like his last hit of the blunt he passed it back to the spiky haired guy and finished off his drink.

This night was looking up! He headed for the kitchen a new twinkle in his eye and...a hop in his step.

_

* * *

Where the hell is that bloody frog! _Arthur thought plastering a disgruntled look on his face.

He didn't want him sneaking up on him again. He'd had to calm himself a bit earlier in the cafeteria after the bloody bastard had palmed his ass so possessively and whispered in his ear. Bloody frog had him by the bollocks...figuratively.

He'd left his house with his brother Jamie staring him up and down and blowing cigarette smoke in his direction. Jamie had laughed and asked why he was dressed like that. He'd yelled back "because I fucking felt like it" and went out to meet his ride.

He looked good, bloody frog was gonna be at a loss and still not get anything from him. He smirked at the thought.

He was wearing a red fitted wife beater under a shredded loose fitting Iggy Pop t-shirt. He was wear really tight ripped up dark grey jeans with patches on them and chains dangling from the sides and a pair of Demonia boots. He had in all his piercings tonight even the bellybutton one, and a couple of his tattoos were visible. His hair was spiked and the tips were dyed red with temp-dye. His appearance was topped off by a spiky choker and a very thin line of dark grey eyeliner just under his eyes.

His ride for the night was his friend Yao. Yao was a quiet Asian kid who seemed a lot older than his 18 years, but he and Arthur got along well.

So here he stood trying to deny that he really wanted to see the bloody tosser, who was throwing this party.

* * *

Francis could feel the electric feeling in his groin that signaled he was about to get very hard very quick. He thought of Alfred naked and it helped to make his groin stall in its journey upward.

Arthur had just walked in his house looking nothing short of delicious. The Brit was fully punked out and nibbling on his lip ring. Francis did a swift about face, pouring the Brit a drink before heading back out to corner, _yes corner_, the Brit and begin his seduction.

He dimly registered that it was Matthew, who had just skipped in from the back porch. Matthew walked over to the counter and jumped up to sit on it.

Francis looked up for a moment at his cousin before finishing pouring the whiskey high ball. Matthew grinned back and swung his feet. "Make me one, _s'il te plaît_ _?_" Matthew cooed, his eyes giving away his lack of sobriety. Normally, Francis would entertain and laugh at his cousin, but at the moment, he and his rowdy libido had to catch a British piece of ass.

"_Tout à l'heure, bon?_" he said smiling nodding swiftly to his cousin before grabbing his drinks and rushing to his Brit.

Had he been thinking with the head on his shoulders he would have stuck around for the inevitable hilarity that would be a drunk Matthew. He also would have caught the light whiff of pot wafting off of his cousin, but he was alas in a rush to be with his _Anglais. _He also wouldn't have missed the pout that Matthew gave before grabbing about three German beers and making quick work of them in his already tipsy state.

When Francis re-entered the room a sensual industrial Euro-beat was playing. The Brit was facing away from him. He put down his own drink on a nearby table and snaked his arm around that little waist grinding his lower half against his own.

Arthur let out a low startled sound but before he could turn to see who was behind him (like he didn't know already) a whiskey high ball was being offered to him.

He smirked and took the proffered high ball, simultaneously grinding his ass back into the bloody frog. He heard a muffled "_Mon Dieu!_" behind him as he continued the slow grind and sipped his drink.

Francis was about to start kissing on his delicious little _Anglais_ when he heard whooping and cat-calling from the other side of the room.

He looked up to see Matthew dancing on the coffee table with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

_

* * *

This was definitely the best party Francis has ever thrown. _Gilbert thought as he drank peppermint schnapps from the bottle in his hand.

It had taken him a bit to lose Antonio, who was much fast and stronger when pissed off. I had been worth it to see Lovino's surprised and pissed off face.

Since then he'd had girls fighting over him and his copious amounts of awesome. But his luck with these girls had not been very good...

First this adorable little Hungarian chick had started dancing with him. She had really nice tits, so he'd danced with her. But then her gay four-eyed boyfriend had gotten all pissed and grabbed her. And she had been dragged off yelling that he and that dude could just make out and she'd watch.

_Like hell!_

Gilbert was bi, but he preferred girls to guys, actually he was only bi when he was drunk and could blame it on his slightly-less-awesome-but-still-more-awesome-than-anyone-else drunk self. Either way that four-eyed stuck up nerd had been too fucking lame for him to stoop to making out with.

_I mean I'm not desperate! _He thought.

Next he'd begun grinding on this Ukrainian chick, but her younger brother had been a fucking freak, being even bigger than his little brother so he had backed off. Not that he was scared or anything. He was too awesome for that, but he was getting laid tonight not married.

He'd been just about to go and chat up this cute little Asian girl with a flower in her hair, when his peripheral vision caught something shiny.

For a moment he couldn't think he was so fixated on that shiny jean clad ass he was watching. _ Mein Gott! What a nice ass! Nice legs too!_ Gilbert thought to himself. He'd long passed tipsy and he was pretty obviously ogling whoever was attached to that wonderful lower body.

This "girl" must play sports he thought to himself, because that ass was tight and in shape.

Just as he was about to force himself to tear his eyes up to see the rest of this "girl", "she" climb on top of the coffee table and started to shake that wonderful ass to the beat of a slow Euro-industrial song.

He looked up and saw the blond dancing sensually to the beat of the song with a Warsteiner in "her" hand and a cigarette in the other. _Keine Titten aber ist noch sexy._ He thought, thinking there was something about this girl that wasn't quite right.

The swaying of "her" hips quickly erased all thoughts that weren't of the lustful variety. As the song ended he called out to "her" and pulled on "her" loose black vest. He'd startled "her" because "she" stumbled off the coffee table and into his arms.

He stared into those tipsy violet eyes and he stopped breathing for a moment. Deja vu. Why was he meeting all these people with violet eyes? He hadn't even known you could have violet eyes. He set "her" on "her" feet and took the cigarette from "her" and took a drag. He fixed "her" with a breathtaking if a bit mischievous and drunken grin around the cigarette.

As the next song began "she" smirked at him. _Smirked_ at _him. _As the 80's sounding beat of the next song began "she" grabbed his hand and placed it on "her" waist as "she" turned around and began swaying those hips against him.

Gilbert's mouth went a bit dry. He removed the cigarette and smashed it out in a convenient ash tray nearby before resuming his attentions to this mysterious violet eyed "girl". "What's your name?" he asked against "her" ear. "She" turned her head and placed "her" lips against his ear and said "Matthew."

* * *

Well he hadn't been expecting that. Gilbert blinked a bit and his drunken mind decided that neither him nor his cock, which was enjoying Matthew's ass, cared that he was grinding on a dude.

"_Gott_, you have the nicest ass I've ever seen. Do you workout or something?" Gilbert hissed into Matthew's ear. His accent was getting really thick as it tended to do when he was turned on. If turned on enough he wouldn't even be able to speak English.

Matthew chuckled and sighed, "I skate," he said flippantly. It wasn't totally the truth, but this guy seemed like he liked the cute type, not the I'll-kick-your-ass-and-play-hockey type. He wasn't inclined to ruin the moment.

Matthew turned in Gilbert's arms and looked up into those, now, blood red orbs. He had a sense of deja vu, but couldn't quite remember where he remembered these eyes from. "Do you dye, your hair and wear contacts?" he asked.

"No, I'm an albino," he said his attention all focused on those full little lips.

"Well you look, badass. I bet you get a lot of girls because of it," Matthew said letting out a little exhale of air as he felt Gilbert's hands slide down his waist and stop at the small of his back, just over his ass.

"I know right? I look awesome don't I," Gilbert said turning them in a small circle and pinning Matthew against the wall.

There was a long still moment between them. Matthew licking his bottom lip, Gilbert biting his, they looked hard into each others eyes. The sexual tension crackling between them like a lighting storm with no rain.

There was a pause as the music switch. In that moment they both made a silent decision between each others gazes.

They both wanted each other so bad.

Matthew wanted this red-eyed boy who had _seen_ him. Who was obviously as hot for him as he was the other.

Gilbert couldn't have asked for a better piece of ass. This blond lit him up like a bonfire and made him interested in more than just getting drunk and messing with people. He wanted to know how this person had captured his awesome attentions. _Magic?_

The next track to play was "Fever" by Cascada and as the loud yelling voice blared through the speaks, Matthew launched himself at Gilbert's lips. Gilbert did the same thing grabbing the backs of Matthew's thighs and pinning him up against the wall. Matthew locked his legs around Gilbert and tossing his hat from his head so he could bury his fingers in his hair.

Gilbert slipped his tongue through the barrier of Matthew's lips and licked his teeth coaxing further entrance into the blond's mouth. Matthew opened for him, but gave his hair a light tug to control the kiss. Gilbert groaned into his mouth sucking on his tongue like a tootsie pop. Matthew felt a moan tear through him as Gilbert expertly molded their lower bodies in a slow grind, while running his finger playfully on the back seam of Matthew's pants over his ass crack.

"Oh God!" Matthew gasped against Gilbert's lips as he was ground against the wall and that finger pressed surprisingly accurately on his ass. "So good" he whispered wetly, his lips still on Gilbert's.

"_Ich weiß es! Ich will mit dir ficken!_" he growled as he ground himself further into the sexy blonde.

Matthew had no idea what he'd said but it sounded so sexy in German that he ground his hips into the other and molded their mouths. Dimly his mind sought to remind him that they were in a room full of people but his cock made him forget again.

* * *

"Oh that's bloody vulgar!" Arthur scoffed disgustedly. Francis had effectively put his cousin out of his mind again in favor of tasting his delicious _Anglais_. At the sound of disgust in his beautiful _Anglais_'s tone he looked in the direction he was scowling.

"_Oh purée!_" he exclaimed as he watched one of his best friends veritably grinding his cousin into the wall...in _his_ clothes no less!

He let out a nervous chuckle and Arthur scowled. "Tell them to get a bloody room! No one wants to watch them shag!" Arthur said angrily.

_Was Gilbert fingering him through his pants? Wow! _Then a scary thought came to him. _Merde!__Where is Alfred? He is not going to like this!_

As if he'd summoned him he heard a loud "What the fuck are you doing to my little brother!" from across the room followed by a growled "_Scheiße, Bruder!_" and what he thought was a squeal from his friend Elizabeta.

Oh Boy! The shit had just hit the fan.

******

* * *

Notes:**

***Fleur-de-lis: **It's a stylized lily symbol (It makes an appearance on the Quebec flag along with some white and blue...hmm)

******Translations:**

******German:**

******Aber was denn, West!****- **Come, Come, West! (This is a colloquial phrase and I may have used it in the wrong context but...oh well.)

******Prost!-** Cheers!(Germans say it when drinking)

******Mein Gott-** My God

******Keine Titten aber ist noch sexy.-** No Tits but still sexy.(Oh Gilbert...smh)

******Ich weiß es! Ich will mit dir ficken!-** I know! I want to fuck you! (Hell hath no heat like a horny Prussian. LOL.)

******Scheiße, Bruder!-** Shit, Brother! (LOL. Poor Luddy...)

******French**

******s'il te plaît ?-** please? (This is the informal version of _s'il vous plaît__?_)

******Tout à l'heure, bon?-** In a moment, ok? (Not sure if this one is right, but I think it would be something like this)

******Mon Dieu!-**My God!

******Oh purée!-**Oh my goodness! (colloquial french)

******Merde!-** Shit!(In french, however is not as harsh as yelling Shit! So its probably more like Crap!)

**

* * *

A/N:**

**Sorry if I'm terrible at Spamano, but I thought this would be funny, I enjoy when Antonio get mad. LOL. I'm also consider drawing all the main characters (PruCan, FrUK, Germany, Netherlands, and US) as they would be dressed at the party :D We'll see how I feel though. Please leave reviews I have greatly appreciated the ones I've gotten so far!  
**


	5. Deals with Demons

Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia...though after watch the English dub...not sure I want to...poor Germany sounds hilarious to me but I dig France's English voice.

_

* * *

It feels so good_. Matthew thought as the friction against his crotch caused by his temporary albino lover's exquisite grinding quickened and the albino boy playfully bit and sucked at his neck.

Blissfully high, slightly drunk, and terribly turned on, Matthew couldn't imagine feeling better.

Unfortunately, he was right not to.

One minute he's thinking about how great it was going to feel to be fucked by the albino boy, the next he was wondering how he'd managed to fall on his ass when someone else had been holding him up.

His hazy mind couldn't figure out what was going on, but it had enough sense to be indignant. He looked up to where one minute his red eyed make-out buddy had been and it all clicked.

Rage is a terrifying thing in someone who never shows it. _Fucking Alfred!_

* * *

Alfred was pissed, with a capital P.

_Who the hell is that guy grinding Mattie into the wall? Is that pain on Mattie's face? I'm gonna kill that motherfucker_...Alfred thought as he stormed through the crowd and yanked the white haired boy off of his brother and on to the floor.

He glared down into..._did this guy have red eyes? A fucking demon?_ That's a bit scary, but he wasn't scared because he was Mattie's hero. _Fucking dragon slayer! Or maybe exorcist in this case_ he thought looking at those red eyes cautiously.

His attention was ripped away by the blue eyed German kid from his homeroom class. "Why did you do that, Alfred?" Ludwig yelled, a bit pissed himself because he was just about to dance with Feliciano...in a platonic way of course.

"What does it have to do with you, Ludwig?" Alfred yelled a bit miffed that he'd decided to butt into something he had no business in.

"That's my brother you just yanked to the ground! I think I have a right to know, what the hell is going on!" he yelled pushing a hand through his neat hair.

"He was raping _my_ bro-" he started before the ground was ripped from beneath his feet.

_

* * *

What the hell? Was it a dream? _Gilbert wondered on the floor.

One minute he was being encouraged by the sexiest little deep purrs near his ear as he mimicked just a few of the things he planned to do to that sexy little skater's body, and the next he was on the floor his drunken head swimming a bit.

He looked up, looking for Matthew, and then realized that he hadn't been dreaming, he had been yanked off of the sexy boy.

_Whoever was responsible for the yanking was about to die._

He narrowed his eyes and looked up behind him and into the pissed off blue eyed gaze of the asshole responsible. His drunken mind didn't have the rationale to ask questions as to the reasons for himself being yanked off the sexy blond, or didn't care. He continued to glare weighing which attack he'd like to employ.

Should he just bite the shit out of the motherfucker's leg? Or maybe punch him in the nads, seeing as he'd pretty much done that to him? Maybe he should stand up and just give him a good ole punch in the eye?

As he was thinking of all the pains he would cause Alfred he saw his brother bound over. He, too, looked pissed. But not at Gilbert. _Was West actually taking his side? He was! Alright it was on now!_

With no further thought and no questions asked, Gilbert launched at Alfred's legs tackling him to the floor. Once the huge blond was on the ground he crawled over him and began to make short work of knocking the hell out of him.

Alfred was stunned, he couldn't even register that he'd been tackled until the demon landed the first blow under his jaw. He thanked whoever (God?) he was still sober enough to block the next couple blows and then launched his own attacked landing a stunning blow to one of the demon's eyes. Just as he was about to roll the little fucker off him, the demon was gone.

* * *

This was by far not the first time that Ludwig had to come get his brother over pissing off some guy by touching on his sister. This was however, the first time that Gilbert had offended a guy by messing with his _brother_.

He thought that "girl" he'd been dancing with had looked familiar, but he hadn't realized it was the little brother of Alfred Jones, the school's star athlete.

_Verdammt_!_Why can't Gilbert pick a nice girl with little relatives? _Ludwig thought as he bounded over to the very pissed off guy. He had tried to talk to Alfred maybe make this end with just a few harsh words.

His first mistake had been thinking that would work. His second had been to take his eyes off of Gilbert.

One minute he's yelling with the American, the next the American is on the ground being punched in the jaw by his very pissed off and wild-eyed brother. As soon as he got his wits about him, he yanked Gilbert off of the boy, both of them with bruises forming on their faces already.

"_Nicht doch! Ich bin deine Zicken langsam leid, Bruder!"_ Ludwig yelled at his still swinging and cursing brother. "Let go of me, West! I'm gonna show this motherfucker who he's yanking!" Gilbert yelled trying to release himself from the steel German grip.

"_Bruder,Matthew ist seinen Bruder! Nicht doch!Lass uns gehen!"_he growled into his brothers ear, struggling to drag him out of there.

"_Was?"_Gilbert said so stunned he stopped struggling.

His gaze scanned the floor looking for Matthew. He'd been so pissed off he had forgotten the sexy boy who he'd been dry humping against the wall.

When he found him his still tipsy gaze lingered over that sexy shiny pants clad ass again, before he saw the little blond stand up next to the asshole, he'd been awesomely pummeling.

They looked alike...shit...West was right. Just as he was about to resign and go with West, he saw the little blond haul off and knock the hell out of the guy who'd yanked him to the floor.

Gilbert burst into cackling laughter as he was dragged out of the room.

* * *

Matthew was done with being polite. His high was gone, his buzz was gone, and now his chance at getting laid was gone too. Bad fucking night.

He'd been so enraged for a minute that he'd partially black out. He didn't completely remember hitting Alfred, but he must have because his hand hurt like hell. He vaguely remembered telling him to "fuck off" before very impolitely helping himself to one of the bedrooms in Francis' huge house and effectively crying himself to sleep.

Well...more like a tear escaped before he passed out.

* * *

Well _Merde!_ Francis thought as he looked around his now empty house. Thanks to Alfred's little overreaction he'd had to end the party at 11:30pm.

And his house was a mess and he wasn't even drunk. Just as he was about to go get a glass of wine and pout, a hand grasped his elbow. He turned around and looked into the face of his _Anglais_.

"You're still here, _mon ange_?" Francis asked incredulously. The little Brit looked incredibly uncomfortable, and he looked like he was going to say something to the effect of "Sod Off, frog!",but instead he looked away and said. "Your place is in shambles, and no good gentleman would leave a frog to clean up alone. It will never look good again."

Francis let a smile creep up his face. Despite the insult, his _Anglais_ obviously cared about him. "_Mon ange_, if you are staying, cleaning is the last thing I plan to do. In fact I plan to make an even bigger mess," he growled in the Brit's ear.

"Sod off, bloody frog!" Arthur yelled pushing Francis off of him. "There is no way in hell I would shag a frog!"he yelled. "Besides, _he's _still here." he said pointing at the ceiling.

_Merde! Is the world against me?_ Francis thought as he remembered his cousin was upstairs passed out somewhere.

"Would you like a ride home, _mon Anglais? _I don't plan to clean tonight_,_" he finally sighed.

Arthur looked away from him again. "I could have gotten a ride from Yao, I told you I'm going to stay and help you. If you don't plan to clean until tomorrow, then I shall just stay the night. Unless you don't want me here..." he trailed off the last sentence.

"But of course I want you here, _mon amour_," Francis said sweetly.

"Smashing," Arthur said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Don't get any bloody ideas! And stop speaking that shitty language of yours. It makes my ears bleed," _Because it turns me on so much!_ Arthur didn't add.

* * *

Matthew awoke the next morning to the sound of the vacuum cleaner downstairs. It was at this point that he remembered that _hi_s house didn't have an upstairs so he couldn't be home. He lifted his head from the bed and instantly regretted it.

The sun had obviously decided that it hated him and his right hand hurt like hell. He also noted dimly that he had the worst case of morning wood he'd ever had. After another 10 min of deciding whether a second confrontation with that infernal sun was wise he forced himself to sit up. His stomach lurched. He launched from the bed and instinctively found a toilet to release his gut into. After a mini wretch fest he leaned himself over the toilet to catch his breath and to think.

_That takes care of the boner_ he thought dimly. _Where the hell am I?_ He asked himself allowing his eyes to scan the bathroom.

He was definitely at Francis' house, the toilet had a bidet. Which meant he'd never left the party...

Then it all came rushing back to his head and he groaned and shifted as he remembered both what Gilbert had done to him on Francis' wall and what he'd done to his brother's eye. He eyed his fist and saw that his knuckles were slightly swollen and a weird bruised color.

He needed answers. He needed to find Francis. He needed ice. He needed food. He needed to find the jeans he'd originally worn here because the ones he had on were killing parts of his anatomy.

He forced himself to his feet to find Francis' room. He stepped into the enormous room and immediately spotted his blessedly baggy pants on the back of a chair.

Once changed, he headed down the stairs.

* * *

"How do you work this bloody thing!" Arthur grunted a bit miffed at the vacuum. He'd been able to do the standard vacuuming, but he'd had to put the vacuum hose on to get the corners.

Francis came behind him and looked down at the vacuum. "You must switch the vacuum switch to its hose button." he said reaching around flipping the switch. "See," he said against the Brit's ear so he would hear him over the din of the vacuum.

He grabbed Arthur's hand that held the hose and began to slowly vacuum a corner. "You know, I've never enjoyed vacuuming, until now," Francis purred in his ear.

_The bloody frog can turn any situation into a sexy one...I mean a wrong one! _Arthur thought, he was ashamed to realize that he felt himself pushing back into the bloody frog's embrace.

Francis put his finger under Arthur's chin and turned it to the side, before leaning in and running his tongue over the Brit's lower lip. Just as he was about to stick out his own tongue and let the bastard into his mouth he heard an over exaggerated "Ahem" from the stairs.

He instinctively elbowed Francis in the gut and went back to vacuuming.

Francis, who was a bit stunned by the sudden blow to the stomach turned around to see his cousin reaching the bottom of the stairs, dressed in his normal red Canada hoodie and baggy jeans.

"You look like hell," he said as he stood next to Matthew. "But how do you feel?"

Matthew winced at the statement. "Worse than I look, eh" he said to Francis.

"_Mathieu!_ You surprised me last night! You were so...well so like _moi!_" He said a devious grin on his face. "And Gilbert..." Francis started.

"His name was Gilbert?" Matthew jumped at the sudden mention of his would-have-been-one-night-stand. He'd been thinking about him since he'd remembered the events of the previous night, and hoping he would be able to find him and apologize for his brother.

Francis caught on instantly. "Yes. You punched your brother over and made out with, Gilbert Beilschmidt, our school's resident German troublemaker," he said nudging Matthew with his elbow.

* * *

The resident school troublemaker was passed out in his bed fully clothed. He had no memory of any of the night's events not even that West had let that pothead Lars drive them home without a license. He awoke when he felt something fuzzy against his face. He cracked open one red eye, the one that didn't hurt to open, and looked into a tiny black beady pair.

"What do you want, you little ball of awesome?" Gilbert groaned into his pillow at Gilbird. He would guess food. He gingerly opened the eye again and a sharp pain shot through his head. _Too much schnapps! _He thought.

Deciding finally that he had to be the awesome owner that he was and feed Gilbird, he made an attempt to get up. He managed to roll himself up into a sitting position, but then had a different "problem".

His pants were trying to fucking kill him! He laid back on his back and attempted to relieve himself of his constricting and evil pants. He was sporting some serious wood this morning.

"Gahh," he groaned as he pushed his jeans to his knees. He was too awesome for underwear and was damn glad of it this morning. He started to stroke his painful boner and inexplicable images began to flit through his mind.

Images of a sexy tight and round little ass, images of pert and cute little lips, images of hooded and tipsy violet eyes. _Gott_, she's hot! Damn, he had an awesome imagination! He even came up with the most awesome material to beat off to.

A more lucid mind might wonder why he had such vivid images of the blond in his head. It might also wonder why one of his eyes hurt like hell, but Gilbert didn't have a more lucid mind, he had a raging boner.

He stroked hard and fast, needing release now! The thought of his sexy mind nymph bent over the his desk across the room took him over the edge.

"_Oh Gott!_," he grunted as he came in his hand and a bit on his stomach. He lay there for a moment marveling at how amazing he felt. How long had he been holding back? You'd think he was Antonio.

He heard a knock on the door and beckoned whoever to come in.

"_Bruder, Mein Gott_ ,man,..." Ludwig said coming into Gilbert's room and immediately averting his gaze as he saw his brother searching for something to wipe both his hand and stomach with.

"Kesesese," Gilbert cackled.

"You could have told me you weren't decent," Ludwig said his eyes still averted. "But then I wouldn't have gotten to laugh at you," Gilbert said finally settling on an old sleep shirt to clean up with.

"_Bruder, _seriously. Alfred Jones is downstairs." Ludwig said. There was obvious tension in his brother's shoulders.

"Who the hell is Alfred Jones?" Gilbert asked. Rolling back out of bed and pulling his jeans back up.

"He's the guy you fought with last night. The brother of the guy you were...making out with," Ludwig grimaced. He was definitely putting it gently by saying "making out" knowing his brother had only been a few measly bolts of cloth away from screwing the other guy.

_Well, that explains the black eye _Gilbert thought, he assumed it had to be black because it hurt like hell.

"Hold on! You're telling me I made out with some guy last night and then fought his brother? What the hell, West?" Gilbert yelled a little pissed his brother hadn't told him he had made out with a guy. "Not that I remember much, but why didn't you tell me I was making out with some queer at the time, West?" he asked indignantly.

Ludwig leveled his angry ice blue gaze on his brother. "Because you already knew. Now go downstairs and _talk _to Alfred. You two better not fight again, because _Opa's_ home." he before turning to leave.

"Wait! What did the little fag look like?" Gilbert asked feeling a little uneasy.

"He's about ye- high." Ludwig said, gesturing around his neck level. "He has blond hair, he has glasses, and purple eyes I think." Ludwig finished. "Either way his brother wants to talk to you so go!" Ludwig said sharply.

Well that explained his vivid beat off material this morning. But, damn, he'd thought it was a girl. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that he still entertained thoughts of fucking the guy.

_I knowingly made out with another guy...what did I drink last night? _Gilbert thought.

* * *

Gilbert made his way down the stairs which led to the kitchen. He grabbed a pack of frozen peas to put on his eye and headed into the living room.

Alfred was sitting in the chair marveling at all the different kinds of cuckoo clocks on the far wall. _How many do they need? _

"Look, I don't know who you are, but I didn't know I was making out with a dude," Gilbert blurted as he moved to sit on the living chair across from the tall blond. He hoped that by saying he hadn't known he was making out with a guy, that they could all forget it and the guy would go home.

Alfred looked at him as if startled from a daydream. "Nice peas," he said smirking at his handiwork.

"Nice fucking bandage, your eye looks like it could use some peas, now what do you want?" Gilbert growled nodding at the bandage under the blond's chin. That looked like _his_ awesome uppercut.

"Look I admit I jumped the gun last night when I yanked-" he started.

"_Pulled_." Gilbert corrected. Nobody yanked him...ever...at least he wouldn't admit it out loud.

"Ok, 'pulled' you off my brother. But I'm the only hero he's got," he said defensively.

"Look, I don't remember much about last night, but I'm sure if I was making out with your brother, he wanted it. I'm fucking awesome, why wouldn't he," he said matter-of-factually to the now seething blond.

Alfred did not like admitting that the German was right. But he was. There is no way Matthew would have hit him and then told him to "fuck off" if he hadn't wanted this asshole. Which was his reason for being there.

"Look, I don't like you," Alfred said bluntly.

"Well look at that we have something in common. I don't fucking like you either, so why don't you do me a favor and get the fuck out," Gilbert said making to get up and show the bastard the door.

"I can't" Alfred gritted. "My brother is a very nice, very polite person, and he never asks for anything. But he obviously likes you," Alfred said. _At least he had when he and Gilbert were drunk..._

At that thought an idea popped into his mind. "Tell you what, Gilbert," Alfred started.

"That's Ruler of All that is Awesome, to you, asshole," Gilbert said smirking.

Alfred clenched his fists, his knuckles going white. "Listen, I'm sure that you and my brother are not compatible. He just doesn't know that yet. If you would just hang out with him while you're both sober, he'll see that, and neither I nor him will ever come near you again," Alfred said a satisfied smirk on his face at his plan.

It sounded like something out of an eighties teen movie, but he was improving, and beggars can't be choosers.

Gilbert considered the proposition. "What's in it for me. I mean, I could care less if I see you again or not. I could also care less if your brother has a faggy little crush on me. I can't say I blame him, even if it is gay," Gilbert said eying the blond.

Alfred let out an exasperated sigh. "What do you want?" he finally asked.

"If you let me get a chance to fuck your brother...I'll make sure he hates me after," Gilbert said deviously. He _was_ going to get laid out of this. He _was not_ going to admit that the last statement made _him_ sound gay.

Alfred sat in stunned silence for a moment. His first reaction was to say "Hell no! No deal!". But this way Matthew, who he was sure would still have memories of being kissed senseless and would surely rebel against him if he protested, would get both what he wanted and what Alfred wanted. His inner hero screamed, and for once, he told him to shut up.

Sometimes to be a hero, you had to use the tactics of the enemy.

"Deal," he sighed.

Gilbert's smirk turned into a full on devious grin. "Alright, what's your brother's name?" he asked excitedly.

"Matthew," Alfred said grudgingly. "Matthew Williams." And with that all of Gilbert's lost images from the night before came rushing back.

* * *

Alfred left the Beilschmidt house feeling terribly guilty. He pulled out his phone and signed into MSN.

_Kiku's online!_

**AlAmericaWins:** i did a bad thing! D:

**SudokuSamurai:** Oh no! What?

**AlAmericaWins:** can I cum over?

**SudokuSamurai:** Sure...but what did you do?

**AlAmericaWins:** ...i just sold mattie's soul to a demon...:(

**

* * *

**

****Bidet**- a water fountain looking addition to a toilet, whose sole purpose is to squirt water up into your nether parts after you've used the toilet. You usually only see them in rich people's houses or nice hotels here in America. _Very French._**

**Translations:**

**German:**

_**Verdammt**_**!- **Damn!

**Nicht doch! Ich bin deine Zicken langsam leid, Bruder!- **Stop it! I've had enough of your nonsense!

**Bruder,Matthew ist seinen Bruder! Nicht doch!Lass uns gehen!- **Brother! Matthew is his brother! Stop it! Let's go!

**Was?-** What?

**Opa-** Grandpa (it's an informal version of Großvater)

**I got lazy on the translations, but I think all the French ones have been used before**

* * *

**A/N:**

**So what do you think?**

**Anybody else like how Mattie went all hockey player on Alfred's face? Not an Al hater but it still amuses me.**

**And I know Al's decision seems a little OOC but we Americans do tend to stoop to nefarious methods for the "greater good". I use that term very loosely. -_-  
**

**Anyway, I struggled a little on where I wanted to take this story, but I think I just opened some door, or some boxes, maybe a can of worms or a black hole...just hope Russia doesn't come out of whatever I've opened! Please keep leaving the awesome reviews! They motivate me to think and update faster! :D**


	6. What is Gilbert up to?

Disclaimer: Still don't own Hetalia...even though I've been gone so long you'd think I went on an epic journey to acquire it. I did meet Jerry Jewell though! :D

* * *

Alfred took the stairs to his boyfriend's 3rd floor apartment two at a time and knocked frantically. He heard shuffling, then the locks of the door releasing their hold. Kiku opened the door and looked up into the sad blue eyes of his deeply troubled boyfriend of two weeks.

"_Arufured!__" _the small Asian boy gasped as he was immediately locked into a tight embrace.

"I love the way you say my name," he said into Kiku's shoulder. "_Arufured!_ It's inappropriate," he said attempting to push the blond off of him.

"Take off your shoes and come in," he said heading into the house. "Would you like some tea?" he asked looking back at Alfred. He was shocked to find him just standing and looking at him pitifully.

He grabbed the American's hand and led him into his room and closed his door. "None of my brothers or sisters are home, so...what happened ?" he asked eying Alfred warily. That bruise on his eye looked terrible, but it made his already handsome face a little wild looking.

"I-I made a really messed up deal with that creep Mattie was making out with last night," Alfred said his head in his hands.

He missed the deep crimson blush that lit his boyfriend's face. Kiku was remembering what had been happening just before Alfred had spotted Matthew and the "creep".

He'd been putting Kiku in a very similar situation on the couch.

* * *

_***The previous night***_

* * *

_It's__ all __the __American's__ fault! __I've __never __had that much to drink__,__ just__ the__ occasional__ taste __of __saki __on __holidays._ Kiku thought in a drunken haze as he stared at drunk teenagers dancing and humping each other in the dim lit, cigarette smoky living room.

However, Alfred had protested his insistence that he only have one beer.

"_Kiku,__I __always __study __when __you __want __me __to, __can __you __drink __a __little __when__ I __want __you__ to?__"_ the smug, sexy American _baka_ had said. In retrospect that was complete bullshit, usually Alfred spent the whole time complaining and then watching Kiku study. _Those blue eyes would be the death of him._

He'd eyed the American warily, but couldn't say no. _He __looked __so __damn__ good __tonight!_ For once he'd worn a button down and attempted to tame his usually unruly hair. As much as Kiku loved the unruly Alfred, this neat Alfred was a novelty and he'd wanted to indulge himself.

So, he'd obliged, by taking two shots of vodka and two more beers than the one he'd already had. It didn't take much.

Now he was drunk and in a daze on the couch.

A sudden jostling of the couch made him turn his attention to the person next to him. Alfred was close to his face blue eyes focused somewhere on the region of his mouth. His sober self would have recognized his tactic, but his drunk self was mesmerized by the blue of Al's eyes.

"Aru-" he managed before the tipsy – and horny- American closed the distance between them.

They'd just had their first kiss only a week before, and they'd kissed sparingly since because of how embarrassing it was for Kiku. Even those kisses were chaste and short, all lips no tongue.

Normally Kiku would be mortified by kissing his boyfriend in public but even that sense was dulled, the only thing that seemed amplified was his libido.

Al, whose personality and libido were also amplified by the alcohol hadn't wasted time slipping his tongue into that little Japanese mouth and doing battle with that innocent pink tongue.

He'd been so glad Kiku was drunk enough not to care, but he was utterly surprised when the little Japanese boy had pushed him back against the couch and crawled into his lap. He'd been so startled in fact that he momentarily thought that he'd kissed the wrong person.

When he opened his eyes and saw those sexy slanted dark eyes made more cat like by his inebriation looking at him from a drunk flushed face and licking his lips, he'd nearly lost it.

"_I'm__ going__ to __wreck __him,__"_ Al had thought as he'd grabbed Kiku by the hips and pressed him against his body and started to fondle him in front...and began questing to the back.

But that was when Al had seen Mattie pressed against the wall over Kiku's shoulder, and his dream bubble had popped, and his drunk self had launched at the demon, he'd thought had be raping his brother.

* * *

They'd never kissed like that before. In fact, that was Kiku's first deep kiss. _He'd__ gotten__ tongue__ from__ the __American!_ One minute Alfred was telling him how much he loved his accent, his eyes, his...well everything, and the next he had nearly been in the blond's lap, with one of those big hands questing south. _And __he'd __almost __let__ him, __because __he __had __been __so __drunk._

The silence between them was awkward, because they had not ended their night on a normal note. Al had been punched then kicked out of Francis's house. Kiku was left to ask his older brother Yao for a ride, which had been awkward since his brother hadn't known he was there and had never seen him drunk before.

Kiku cleared his throat. He was sure he looked like a red balloon about to pop. "I'm going to get us something to drink," he said willing away the nervous tone in his voice.

Alfred seemed startled by the sudden change of subject and quickly grabbed Kiku's hand before he could leave. "I need you," he said looking into his boyfriend's red face. _Why__ is __he__ so __red?__ Fever?_

"What should I do, Kiku? I mean I don't think Gilbert would just not do it, and I'm scared to tell Mattie! I mean what will I say 'I told him he could get a piece of you if he showed what a jerk he is after?' He's gonna kill me..." he whined pitifully hugging the little Asian close.

All of this touching was making Kiku feel like he might just overheat and pass out. "Um...maybe...it's not such a bad plan," Kiku finally forced out.

Alfred looked up at him as if he'd just said Pearl Harbor had been bombed again...and he'd ordered it. "What do you mean? It's a terrible, mean, and unheroic idea. I came up with it because I needed to get that freaking albino to agree to show his true colors to Mattie!" he yelled as if that would make Kiku understand.

"Listen to me, _Arufured.__" _Kiku said taking a deep breath now that Alfred wasn't squashing him. "Your idea is messed up and it is going to hurt Matthew for sure. However, Matthew is not a child. He is going to fight you no matter what on this. If Matthew _doesn't_ find out then he is going to hate _Girubaht_...the creep," he finally settled. _Why __were__ L's __so __damn__ troublesome __to __pronounce? __One __or__ two __was __fine, __but __they __really __gave__ him __a __problem__ when __they__ were __in__ someone's __name._"If he does find out he will be mad, but eventually he is going to forgive you, but he is still going to hate him. Besides...what is done is done, ne?" he breathed a sigh of relief.

He hated English with a passion.

Alfred nodded slowly, then smiled slightly at his boyfriend's ever present war with the English language. Leave it to Kiku, ever the strategist, to be able to make his shitty and terrible plan sound beneficial to all parties in the long run. "You even make _his_ name sound sexy," he said snuggling his face into Kiku's hair.

Kiku blushed. "Do you feel better now? Would you like something to eat? Or Drink?" Kiku asked trying to create a reason to not be so close to the American.

* * *

Francis knew this Saturday was going to suck but he'd hoped for the best. After getting his house clean again he was ready to spend the rest of his Saturday seducing his _Anglais_.

It was not to be.

First, the Brit's older brother (such an asshole!) had called and demanded that his brother come home immediately. His _Anglais_ had put up a valiant fight, tossing numerous expletives at his brother and even dropping into the dreaded cockney insults for a moment, but alas he didn't pay the bills and in the end he asked Francis to give him a ride home.

"_Mathieu_, would you also like a ride home? Once I come back here I do not plan to go back out for a while," Francis said sighing.

Matthew stiffened.

Going home meant he would have to deal with his brother...sober. That thought was not appealing.

He didn't think Al would hit him back or anything (that wasn't very heroic), but he didn't want to have to explain or talk about why he was being humped into a wall by a randy delinquent German.

"I-I don't think..." he started looking at Francis and Arthur.

"What is it _Mathieu_?" Francis asked looking a little concerned.

"Um...it's just...Al will be..."he stammered.

"Look suck it up!" Arthur cut him off. "At least your brother loves you, he'll get over that petty love tap you gave him. Besides, he knows he was being a wanker, even if you were being a bit of a whore on the frog's wall," he said irritably.

Matthew blushed furiously. He remembered all of what had been happening on Francis' wall, even if it was a bit hazy and rose colored around the edges.

"Despite his lack of tact," Francis said chancing a sidelong glance at Arthur, "_Mon__ Anglais_ is right, _Mathieu_. Alfred was at fault and I do believe he will realize this." Francis said putting an encouraging hand on his cousin's shoulder.

"Ok, but Francis can you take me to Gilbert's house first so I can apologize for yesterday," Matthew said fidgeting. "I mean I think Al hit him, and that was very rude, and I just feel bad."

_Merde! He wants to go to Gilbert's house to apologize for his brother's actions last night! _

_This__ is __bad!_ Francis thought as he tried to make up an excuse not to take his cousin to Gilbert's house. If he knew Gilbert he was either passed out still or trying to deny to his brother and/or cousin that he'd indeed been making out with a guy.

Francis was very well acquainted with Gilbert's drunken lack of defined sexuality. Originally it had been hilarious to watch Gilbert get felt up by other drunk guys and respond.

However, he and Antonio had learned that he turned into a total homophobe every morning after, having a night out with guy. He really didn't want Matthew to get his feelings hurt.

"He probably isn't awake, _mon __cousin._ I will take you home today and introduce you properly on Monday," Francis lied. He had no intention of ever having his cousin interact with Gilbert again.

"Besides, no one wants to see you two going at it again. I almost lost my liquor to the floor watching your disgusting display yesterday," Arthur added a scowl on his face and attempting to take Francis' keys from him.

Francis noticed and raised the keys and watched his adorable, super punked out, and irritated _Anglais_ jumping to try to get his keys. "He's jealous – oof!" he said winking at Matthew before he was punched in the side.

"Come on, bastard, I gotta get home, Jaime has to work," he said heading out the door.

The three teens made their way to Francis' alpine white 2009 BMW convertible. Arthur scowled, once in the car and strapped in. "This pisses me off!" he grunted.

"What does, _mon__ ange_?" Francis asked absently as he started the car and put his arm over the back of Arthur's seat while he looked behind him to back out of his driveway.

"The fact that you have the nice car and this huge bloody house all to yourself!" he yelled a little louder than necessary.

Francis glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Ohonhon, would you like to share it with me _mon __ange_?" he asked sneaking a hand onto Arthur's leather clad thigh.

"Fuck no! Stop touching me you rich good for nothing French twit!" he yelled scooting as far as his seat belt and the seat would allow and looking out the window to hide his red face.

Matthew was ignoring the bickering in the front, all he could think about is what he would say to Al when he saw him.

He very rarely hit Alfred, mainly because he was bigger, but also because Matthew was not a naturally violent person.

_Was__ he __jumping __the __gun_...I mean Alfred was his brother and this guy he technically didn't know anything about, except that he was hot, a great kisser, and had ridiculously good rhythm with his hips.

_But__ he __noticed __me!_ His little voice in his head screamed at him. Whether for only carnal reasons or not, he had wanted _him_ and not for any reason than who he was...er...what he looked like. He hadn't been a comparison, or a substitute for Gilbert, even though it was a purely physical and drunken thing.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't realized that they had stopped in front of Arthur's house.

"Bloody hell..." Arthur muttered. Matthew looked up to see Arthur's rather tall, rather well built, red-head older brother standing on the curb glaring at the car.

"He is such a bastard, but his is a hot bast-" Francis started being slapped before he could finish. "Jaime.." Arthur greeted as he opened the car door. Jamie arched one super thick red brow at Arthur and replied with a simple "_Artair.__" _

"Don't call me that, wanker," Arthur sighed...not really mad, but definitely resigned.

"Why? It's your name after all, _mo __bhràthair._" Jaime said softly as his brother brushed past him.

* * *

Francis pulled up in front of Matthew's house and let him out of the car. "All will be well Mathieu! And if it isn't, you can always call me and stay at my place." Francis said smiling at his obviously worried cousin.

"Thank you, Francis," Matthew sighed. "Oh, and don't forget you need to introduce me properly to Gilbert. I don't want him to have the wrong idea about me," Matthew said smiling a little sadly.

"Oui," Francis sighed. "We'll talk about it Monday, enjoy the rest of your weekend" he said rather hurridly.

As soon as Matthew was in the house he whipped out his phone and called Gilbert.

"What?" Gilbert grunted into phone.

"Well _Bonjour_ to you too, Gilbert, what are you doing, besides trying to deny you tried to fuck my cousin yesterday, of course?" Francis asked as he drove.

"Smoking with Lars, and shut up I thought he was a girl!" he yelled into the phone. He heard loud laughter in the background and the sounds of Gilbert yelling at Lars in German hitting him. "He was fucking hot!" Lars said in the background, "And he can smoke with me any day!"

"Anyway," Gilbert said obviously done beating his cousin. "Since you've admitted that he's related to you, I think you should hook me up with him." Gilbert said before taking an audible hit of the pot he was smoking.

Francis' jaw dropped. "_Quoi?_" he asked.

"Dammit Francis, I still want to fu-" Gilbert said before there was mayhem in the background. A low and older voice was yelling loudly in German and the sounds of teenaged boys being hit with things was heard.

He heard Gilbert accidentally drop the phone and then Lars saying "_Tut__ mir __leid, __Opa!_" before the sound of feet escaping. "Get that shit out of my house,_ Dummk__ö__pfchen_!" he heard before more hitting and the eventual end of the call.

Francis was home by this point so he open an MSN window to message Gilbert.

**Francy Pants:** O.O are you alive?

10 minutes went by and Francis had settled on his bed watching TV when his phone finally vibrated.

**Gilbo Baggins:** Of course I am! Awesome can't be killed by an angry grandpa!

Francis shook his head and rolled his eyes.

**Francy Pants:** So what's this business about you wanting to hook up with Matthew? I thought you didn't like boys!

**Gilbo Baggins:** Don't worry about it Fran-fag, just hook me up!

**Francy Pants:**...

**Francy Pants:** What are you up to?

**Gilbo Baggins:** I have no idea what you mean, Frenchy! ;)

**Francy Pants:** With Matthew! Why are you suddenly all gay friendly for him?

**Gilbo Baggins:** Fuck you, Francis...

**Francy Pants:** I'd rather you do that than anything with my cousin! :(

**Gilbo Baggins:** LMAO, like that would ever happen!

**Gilbo Baggins:** Just hook me up!

**Francy Pants:** No! I'm serious! I'm going to tell Mathieu all about you!

**Gilbo Baggins:** Do it, and then I'll tell Emma, Romano, and Arthur all about what you and Antonio were doing together up until 8 months ago, while she was still dating him. XD

**Gilbo Baggins:** You know she is scarier than Romano sometimes...but Arthur...would flip your shit!

_Francy Pants is offline._

* * *

**Translation:  
**

**French:**

**Mon** **Ange**_ –_ My Angel

**Quoi?**_-_What?

**Scottish Gaelic:**

**Artair_-_**It's Arthur's name in Gaelic (which by the way means "high or noble" "eagle-like")

**mo** **bhràthair**_-_My Brother

**German:**

**Tut mir leid, Opa!**_-_ Sorry, Grandpa!

**Dummköpfchen** – Little Fool. Literally "little dumb head".

* * *

**A/N: **

**I'm sure you're asking yourself...is she going to act like she hasn't been gone for like a year? The answer is yes. **

**BTW if you want to know what happened between Antonio and Francis, I'm posting a separate one-shot called Meet Me Halfway. So that's kind of like two chapters! FORGIB MEH! and R&R is loved. Next chapter will be Gilbert heavy...haha**


End file.
